The British Mysteries Edition: 14 Novels & 70+ Short Stories. Sapper
said Jim. "If it is Miss Draycott find out where she is speaking from. If it sounds at all risky do the silly-ass stunt. But if she is in London get her round to the ladies' side here, the same as we arranged for lunch."
"Right ho! laddie," cried the other. "You leave it to me."
He came back almost immediately.
"Speaking from Langham Square," he said. "She's coming at once. And, Jim, unless I'm much mistaken, there have been doings. Her voice was rather like that of an agitated hen."
"Good!" cried Jim. "The sooner we get to it the better."
"Do you want me to attend the pow-wow?" asked his cousin.
Jim nodded.
"But say nothing, at any rate at present, about her brother!"
Judy Draycott was as good as her word: she came at once. And it struck Jim as he shook hands that she was even more attractive than he had thought at first. But there was a look of tense anxiety about her that brought him back to business at once.
"What is the trouble, Miss Draycott?" he said as they sat down.
"Mr. Maitland," she answered earnestly, "there's some devilry going on. I'm just worried to death."
"I don't expect it's quite as bad as that," he said with a smile. "Young Percy and I have been having a lot of fun over your affairs too."
"What do you mean?" she said in amazement.
"You shall hear in good time, Miss Draycott," he answered. "Let's get to your doings first. All that we know is that a female of sorts called on you at breakfast this morning, bringing a message from your brother, and you went away with her."
"She had a car waiting outside," began the girl—"and I got in without hesitation. All that she had said in the house was that Arthur wanted me to come, and to bring with me the letter he had sent to my bank. That, of course, I couldn't do without coming round and getting it from you."
"Which you'd have had considerable difficulty in doing," put in Jim quietly. "Did you mention you'd sent it to me?"
"I did not. And really I can't think why I didn't—then. Because at the time I had no suspicions. I did think it a little strange that Arthur should have sent a woman as a messenger, but I was so keen to see him that I didn't bother about it much. I just dashed upstairs, told my aunt, and started off. It was a closed car, and a chauffeur in livery was driving. And after a while it began to strike me that my companion was very uncommunicative. Every question I put to her she answered in monosyllables. So at last I tackled her point blank."
"'Is there anything the matter with my brother?'"
"She tried to evade it for a bit, but I insisted. And to my horror I found he had been involved in a bad accident."
The eyes of the two men met, but the girl was too intent on her story to notice.
"He was in a nursing home, and his eyes had been affected. It was a motor accident, and his face had been badly cut about."
"'Who is looking after him?' I demanded."
"A Doctor Phillips, she told me, was in charge. I asked where the house was. It was on the outskirts of Mayfield in Sussex."
"'But what on earth was he doing motoring down there,' I cried in amazement, and she shrugged her shoulders. She had no idea why he had been there: all she could tell me was that the crash had occurred about half a mile from their lodge gates and some workmen had carried him in.
"We arrived at half-past eleven, and when I saw the house my heart sank. It was the most gloomy, depressing spot: anything less suited for a nursing home it would be impossible to imagine. And I think it was as we drove up to the door that suspicion first started in my mind. I caught the woman's eyes fixed on me, and though she immediately glanced away, there had been a funny look in them. And it was then, as I say, that I first began to wonder if all was well.
"The door was opened by a man-servant, and as I stepped into the hall suspicion increased. The place was furnished after a fashion but there was a sort of musty smell about everything that you only get in a house that has been empty for some time. However, I said nothing, of course, and a moment later a man came down the stairs.
"'This is Doctor Phillips,' said my companion.
"He shook hands, and led the way into one of the downstair rooms.
"'An unfortunate home-coming for your brother!' he said. 'Our matron has told you, I suppose?'
"'She tells me that Arthur has been badly damaged in a motor accident,' I answered. 'And I should like to see him at once, please.'
"He held up his hand.
"'One moment, my dear young lady,' he remarked—and if there's one thing that drives me to drink it's being called that—'we must have a little chat first. To begin with, your brother is in a very excitable condition just at present—a condition which in view of the injuries to his face and eyes...'
"'Eyes!' I cried.
"'Didn't the matron mention that? Yes: I am sorry to say his eyes are involved. It is for that reason that we are keeping him in a dark room. But do not alarm yourself. With care and good nursing I feel confident he will retain his sight unimpaired, if—and this is very important, if—we can keep him calm. Any mental excitement is the worst possible thing for him. Now I naturally have no idea what he is talking about, but the very first moment he began to speak coherently last night he kept asking about some letter he had sent you. He must have it: he must have it at once. In vain for me to point out to the dear fellow that he couldn't read it: that it was safe with you until he had recovered. It was no use. And so I entrusted the matron when she came to get you to be sure and mention it, so that you could bring it. It will pacify him enormously. You have it, of course?'
"And it was then, Mr. Maitland, I did some pretty rapid thinking. I was as convinced as I could be that there was something wrong. I knew that house was no nursing home, and I felt pretty well certain the man talking to me was no doctor. He was too suave and oily. Besides, genuine doctors don't allude to a complete stranger as a dear fellow. But what was I to do? I hadn't got it, and what was going to be the result when I told him so? I was convinced that it was the letter this man was after, and if he found out it wasn't there, he would pull more of his medical jargon out, tell me it would excite Arthur too much if I saw him without the letter, and insist that I should go back to London and get it before I could visit him. And I was determined that that should not happen. I was determined that by hook or by crook I would talk to Arthur before I left the house.
"It's taken a long time to describe what I felt: it actually took a second to decide.
"'Naturally,' I said. 'I'll hand it to him myself.'"
"Well done," remarked Jim quietly. "How did he take that?"
"Not very enthusiastically," she answered, "which merely increased my determination to see Arthur. But short of snatching my bag from me by force he could do nothing, and at last with a very bad grace he rose and left the room mumbling about seeing if Arthur was ready.
"The instant the door was shut I flew to it and listened: he and the woman were having an argument in the hall outside. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but it sounded distinctly acrimonious. And again my suspicions increased: I knew the show was crooked.
"The man came back in about five minutes, accompanied this time by the woman. He seemed to have recovered himself, and his smile was more oily than ever.
"'This way, my dear young lady,' he said. 'And you will remember, won't you, that you may find your brother a little strange. The vocal chords—everything has been affected.'
"We went upstairs, and my heart began to thump. Mr. Maitland—the house was empty. No sign of movement: no nurses: nothing at all that you always see in a nursing home. And he seemed to sense what I was feeling.
"'Very slack time just now,' he remarked. 'Which will enable me to give all the more care to your brother.'
"He